


Christmas Tree

by melmac



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melmac/pseuds/melmac
Summary: Will is having a hard time on Christmas Eve, and Hannibal finds a way to make it better





	Christmas Tree

“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, all the creatures were stirring, especially a Buster.”

Will smiled and tipped his glass of whiskey towards his furry brood spread around the fireplace. The little dog in question wiggled at his feet, more interested in trying to steal one of Alana’s Christmas cookies.

This Christmas Eve wasn’t so different from previous years. He’d lit a fire and was half way through his favorite bottle of whiskey, while the dogs lounged at his feet. Nothing in his home gave an indication of the coming holiday—no decorations or a tree—not for many years. Growing up, Christmas was just a reminder of how little they had; though his Dad tried to it make it special. He always insisted they had a tree, even if there weren’t any presents to go under it. The tree was usually procured late at night about a week before Christmas by driving a little north until they found a good grove of evergreen. His dad would let him hold the flash light while he found a good tree to chop down. The decorations were always a hodgepodge of paper and wood, made by a child’s hand. As he grew older, the tradition became a little sadder, but his Dad always had his tree—except for his last one, but Will didn’t want to dwell on it now. He downed the last of the whiskey in his glass and moved to pour another, hoping maybe the next drink would do its job and make him forget the events of earlier. Every time he let his mind wander, he saw flashes of intense brown eyes, the brush of soft lips, and the ghost of warm hands against the side of his face and sliding along his back. He shivered slightly and commenced pouring, stopping at the sound of his cell phone vibrating against his desk.

He glanced at the name and winced. “Hello.”

“Will I need you at a crime scene. Now.”

“Jack…I…”

“Look I know it’s Christmas Eve Will, but blame the murderer, not me. How soon can you get here? I’m texting you the address now—it’s not far from you, in Middleburg.” 

“Jack it’s just…I…I’m really sorry, but I can’t drive, and probably can’t be much help to you right now.”

There was a brief moment of silence, which meant Jack had just stopped himself from yelling. “Something wrong with your car?” 

“No…I’ve had some whiskey, and I don’t think I should drive.”

“Are you drunk? You don’t sound drunk.” 

“No, I don’t think I am, but I’m not driving Jack.”

“Fine. Dr. Lecter is on his way, he can pick you up. I’ll see you both in an hour.” 

The line immediately went dead, and Will resisted throwing his phone across the room. _Fucking Jack._ He abandoned his whiskey and went to take a quick shower, hoping it would sober him. When he emerged from the shower, there was a text from Hannibal saying he’d gotten a call from “Uncle Jack” and he’d see him soon. He really hated Jack.

When Hannibal finally arrived, he eyed Will cautiously, glancing once at the half empty whiskey bottle.

 “I’m fine.”

“Are you certain? I have no issue telling Jack it’s better you sit this one out.” 

Will busied himself putting on his coat, avoiding his eyes. “If I wasn’t fine, I would tell you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Would you? You seem slightly flushed.”

“I took a shower. Can we go?”  
 

** 

The drive to the crime scene was marked by a tense silence, Will keeping his eyes resolutely out the passenger window. The drive back proved even more uncomfortable, and Will could not stop shivering, but not from the cold. Worse of all, he had this bizarre urge to crawl into Hannibal’s lap and just lay there until he calmed down. No one should have to see such a crime scene on Christmas Eve, especially not after consuming half a bottle of whiskey. He may not have been drunk, but the alcohol weakened his barriers, and the killer’s mind lingered in his even now. This killer was depressed, angry and desperate and Will wanted Hannibal to hurry home so he could finish off the rest of that bottle.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Will wrapped his arms tighter around himself. “The kiss? Well, more like making out…or the crime scene?”

“Either.”

“No.”

 

** 

The minute he was through his front door, Will headed for the bottle even before he took his coat off. Hannibal watched him, gauging the best way to approach.   

“I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone tonight.”

He took a small sip and leaned back on his sofa. “I’m ok.” He wasn’t, but he didn’t want to deal with the guilt of being a burden tonight. 

“You turned down my invitation for dinner. Have you eaten?”

“Hannibal…”, but he gave him that look that told him there was no room for argument, so he just shook his head.

Hannibal nodded once and was out the door. He returned with a large basket and a bottle of wine. Will rolled his eyes and smirked a little.

“Of course, you had an entire dinner in the trunk of your car.”

“Of course.”

Will waved him towards the kitchen and returned to his whiskey. He kept seeing them; all those bodies in various stages of decay, stuffed with rags and paper trying to make them whole again. The pinnacle of loneliness—perhaps the reason it shook him so deeply. The idea that this desperate man tried to create a family out of corpses. 

They ate dinner in the living room with plates balanced on their laps. He’d made a simple dinner of roasted duck breast and vegetables that went really well with whiskey—so he had two more glasses. Hannibal kept the conversation light with idle chatter about Christmas traditions in Lithuania and France, until he saw Will had eaten his entire meal. He cleared their plates, returning with a glass of water for Will and a wine for himself. 

“Was it the loneliness of the killer that bothered you so much?” 

He nodded, too tired to evade the question.

“You’re not alone, Will.”

“I know…I guess I know that, but I’ve been for so long it’s hard to imagine another possibility.”

“Is that why you don’t decorate for the holidays? Alana told me you tend to spend Christmas alone, despite everyone inviting to their homes.” 

“No…I don’t deserve a Christmas tree.” 

“What do you mean?” Will knew the whiskey guaranteed he wasn’t going to shut up now, as he tended to talk more when he drank. He only hoped he wasn’t too embarrassed later.

“I keep thinking about the last Christmas my father was alive. He was sick…really sick, and I went to him, because I knew I’d probably never see him again. He loved Christmas, even though ours were always paltry compared to most, he still loved it. He made sure we had a tree every year, no matter what he had to do to get one. So, that last one, he’d been too sick to get his own. I didn’t make it to him until Christmas Eve, and there weren’t anymore. He lived in this tiny town, and I wasn’t really thinking about it, but it was too late. It’s all he wanted, and I thought about going out and cutting one down, but I didn’t. I was too scared he’d die while I was gone. So, his last Christmas on this earth, no tree. I don’t feel right about getting one for myself now.” 

Hannibal reached over and took his hand, lightly kissing his knuckles. 

“You deserve happiness, and joy. Your father knew that, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to deprive yourself of it now.”

Will didn’t answer him but didn’t pull his hand away. 

“I’m sorry I freaked out about the kiss. I don’t know why I reacted that way. I wanted you to. I’ve wanted you to for a long time.”

“But you insist on denying yourself what will make you happy.”

He looked at him and smiled a little. “You’d make a pretty good psychiatrist, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal kissed his fingers again. “How about we get you to bed? You must be tired.”

 “Ok.”

**

The next morning, he woke feeling a little disoriented and foggy, but surprisingly warm. Normally he would make a mad dash to the fireplace to ward off the early morning chill, but he felt almost toasty and very comfortable. He glanced behind him to see a slumbering Hannibal with his arm wrapped around his waist. He leaned further into the chest pressed against his back, smiling slightly that Hannibal Lecter liked to snuggle. What an unlikely pair they made. He took a moment to just watch Hannibal sleep, enjoying the rare chance to see him so unguarded and peaceful. The dogs noticed he’d awakened and immediately crowded over by the bed. He hurried to let them out before they disturbed Hannibal. Before climbing back into bed, he noticed a sheet of paper laying on his desk. It looked like a page from Hannibal’s book. He held it gingerly, careful not to crease it. It was a sketch of his fireplace and in front of it, a beautiful Christmas tree. Will’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes teared as he read the simple inscription. 

_Merry Christmas Will. I hope someday you’ll allow me to make this a reality. You deserve all the joy and happiness this world possesses.  Love. HL_

Then Will was immediately on him, pulling him awake. A very confused Hannibal looked up at him, but before he could get a single word out, Will’s mouth was on his, pulling him deeper into a kiss as he leaned down on top of him. Hannibal smiled when he finally pulled away, letting his fingers trace a single tear that’d slipped down Will’s cheek.

“What is it?”

Will shook his head and kissed him again. “Merry Christmas Hannibal.”

“Merry Christmas Will.”

 

**

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
